


Any Port Manteau In A Storm

by yonderdarling



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Frasier (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Radio, F/F, F/M, Frasier fusion, Glasgow, Past Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 06:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12007440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonderdarling/pseuds/yonderdarling
Summary: The all-human radio AU fusion oneshot with a season one episode of NBC's beloved sitcom Frasier (1994 - 2003) that we've all been waiting for. Or something.





	Any Port Manteau In A Storm

**Author's Note:**

> The Doctor's still reeling from his failed marriage when his ex-wife Missy comes into town. 
> 
> Okay, so. If any of you have me on tumblr, you'll know I love Frasier. After rewatching it with a friend, we noticed a few parallels in the relationship dynamic between Frasier Crane and his second wife, Lilith Sternin. 
> 
> This, mostly shamelessly ripped off from the episode "The Show Where Lilith Comes Back," was the Frankensteinian result.

**THE JOB**

 

The Doctor marched down the grey radio station halls heading for his studio. He sidestepped the two chittering girls who hosted Friday's Fashion Fix -

"Morning, Doctor!" the blonde one, Rosie - Rose? said, and waved.

"Heya!" added her brunette sidekick.

"Hi Rose, Clare," said the Doctor awkwardly, nursing his mug carefully, keeping on keeping on. "Sorry, I've only got - " his internal clock ticked away. "Seventy-two seconds. Must be off."

He hustled around a corner and down to Studio 12, stepped through the door and hip-checked the door shut. It shut seamlessly and silently, and the Doctor slid into his chair. In her booth, Donna pointed at him, and the Doctor hit the mike button.

"Welcome back, Glasgow, this is the Doctor, and I'll be with you for the next hour, with _Doctor What?_ Where we answer all your science questions. It's Film Physics Friday - " God, he hated the theme shows, and he loathed Film Physics Friday - "Donna, Donna Donna, who do we have on the line?"

Donna, across in the other booth, pressed her own mike button. "We have Hank on line two, he's got a question about the effects of time on gravity, and gravity on time."

"Thanks, Donna." The Doctor pressed the button. "Hi, Hank, what's your question?"

"Hi Doctor, I love the show. Um, I was watching a film on TV last night, and it had this spaceship in it."

The Doctor dropped his head into his hands. On the other side of the glass, Donna rolled her eyes.

"And it was being sucked into a black hole, and it made half the ship's time run really fast, and apparently that's what would really happen?"

As Hank spoke, the Doctor rifled through a pile of papers on his desk and found a blank piece of scrap. He wrote on it in wobbly letters and held it up to Donna - 

_'I HATE THE SPACESHIP ONES.'_

Donna just nodded.

"So like, is that what would really happen if a spaceship was trying not to get sucked into a black hole?"

"So the spaceship," said the Doctor. "Was quite long?"

"Yes, the colonists were going to live on it for 10,000 years until they reached their new planet. Why would the time go faster at the end of the ship far away from the black hole? The director of the movie said it was scientifically accurate."

The Doctor took a moment to think about his PhD thesis and groundbreaking work in circular time theory. He took another to think about the work he'd done for NASA.

"Well," he said. "Gravity, in large enough amounts, affects time. A black hole, being an exceptional gravitational force, would act on the time at the bottom of the ship to make time slow down, though it would be hard to say by how much unless the film provided you with the precise dimensions of the ship and the black hole. Thus, time wasn't actually faster at the far end of the ship - it was running slower at the end of the ship that was near the black hole. Do you get it?"

"Uh, sure," said Hank, but he didn't sound very convinced. "But - "

"Thanks, Hank," said the Doctor, and disconnected the line. "Well, Donna, who do we have?"

"We're just going to have a quick word from our sponsor, Magpie Electrical!" Donna said over her mike. "Stay listening!"

The Doctor listened to the 30-second ad for Magpie electrical repair over his headphones, staring at the little photo of his daughter he kept on the studio desk.

"And we're back with Doctor What!" Donna said.

"Thanks, Donna," said the Doctor into his mike. "Whom do we have on the line?"

Donna grinned at him through the soundproof glass. "We have a caller on line one who claims they have a better explanation for Hank."

"Really. Well," said the Doctor. He pressed the button for line one. "Hello caller, you're on the air."

A familiar voice filled the booth, and the Doctor paled. "Congratulations, dear Doctor, you've done it again. This is meant to be entry-level science and you sent poor Hank down one of your dark, multisyllabic hallways. Hank, I hope you're still listening. A black hole is nothing but a magic space hole. Magic space hole, right?"

The Doctor glanced over to the other booth to see Donna cackling to herself.

"And the magic space hole, if it had some kind of theoretical ship trying to fly away from it, if the ship was big enough, would make time slow down at the bottom of the ship. That is - "

The Doctor moved his gaze away from Donna and stared into the middle distance in horror.

" - the end of the ship closest to the hole, time would run slower down the bottom. At the other end of the ship, time would run at a normal pace, but to beings at the bottom of the ship, it would seem as though the normal end was going incredibly, incredibly quickly." The caller sighed down the line. "This would be easier with a diagram."

"I see," said the Doctor. "Well, listeners, we have a celebrity of sorts on the line. Everyone, this is my ex-wife, Missy."

Missy chuckled down the line, then made a confused noise. "Celebrity?"

The Doctor set his jaw. "Oh, they know you," he said darkly, and muted his microphone, pressed the button that connected him to Donna.

"Donna, what does 'call screening' mean to you?" he snapped.

Donna snickered, tossed back her long red hair. "It means I get to put on the air, the calls I want to hear."

The Doctor switched back over to the on-air mike. "Missy."

"Doctor."

"What brings you back to Glasgow? The weather or the people, both of which are grey and miserable?"

"Actually," said Missy, and the Doctor forced himself to focus on Missy's voice, rather than Donna still grinning to herself in her own booth. "I'm here for a convention and happened to hear your voice on the radio. I kept hoping you'd introduce Little Mix's newest hit, but to my chagrin, you were doling out worthless little advice pellets from your scientific pez dispenser."

At last, an out. "Well, I guess you'll be going off to that convention now and we'll just have to catch up next time you're in town."

"Actually," said Missy, and the Doctor's heart sank. "I'm free tonight."

Donna, curse her to the fiery pits of hell for all eternity, switched on her mike. "Hey Doctor, why don't you ask her out to dinner?"

The Doctor stuck his middle finger up at Donna.

"What a great idea, Donna," he said, through clenched teeth. "You see, even though Missy and I are divorced, we're both adults and we've moved past that, to have a healthy, mature relationship as friends, where we both enjoy spending time together. From time. To time. So, Missy - seven at my place?"

"Sounds perfect," said Missy.

"See you then," said the Doctor, and shut the line off. "Well, it's time for a short break, and then we'll be right back with more science. God willing."

He shut off his mike, waited for Donna to give him the all-clear, and then stood, opened the door to her booth.

"You're fired," he said.

"The union might have something to say about that, sunshine."

 

 

**THE RETURN OF THE MAGNIFICENT TREMAS**

 

"Back in my day," said Nardole, with his annoying face in his ugly chair smack bang in the middle of the living room. "When two people broke up, you were mad, you were angry - "

"You're younger than me," said the Doctor, putting a vase of flowers on the dining table. He straightened it. "A lot younger."

"You were mad, you were angry, you hated each other! Whatever happened to the sanctity of divorce?" Nardole continued. "I mean, my parents certainly never got over it."

"Yeah, but you never liked Missy."

"She's _weird_."

"She's not weird."

"And she's mean," said Nardole. "Said I look like an egg. On multiple occasions."

"You _do_ look like an egg. You say it's for aerodynamic purposes, and that you don't mind."

"I don't mind, when I say it, or you say it," said Nardole, nodding at Bill as she let herself into the flat. "It's just Missy is weird."

"She's not. Okay, maybe a little bit odd, but no more than me."

"I'm used to you, you're my cousin," said Nardole. "And Heather, Heather's a little bit odd with all her atom theories and psychic powers. Missy, is weird."

"Hi, everyone," said Bill finally. "Doctor, here." She put some shopping bags on the table. "Flan, all that."

"I don't like flan. It looks suspicious," said Nardole.

"I make a good flan," said Bill, as the Doctor said, "She makes a good flan."

"What's for dinner proper then?" Bill asked.

"Ravioli," said the Doctor.

"He makes ravioli when he's stressed," said Nardole. "He's got his own little edge-crimper."

"Spinach and ricotta," the Doctor said. "And I've got a tomato and cheese sauce simmering. We'll do the flan for dessert, thanks for bringing it."

Bill stopped listening after she heard 'ravioli.' She went to the fridge, got out three beers, passed one to the Doctor, sat on the couch opposite Nardole in his ugly, ugly chair, and opened her bottle.

"Nardole," she said.

"Bill," said Nardole.

"Fill me in on the Doctor and Miss Missy."

"Technically, it's Professor Tremas," said Nardole, with a stupid egg-grin in his egg-face. "Though Miss Missy, you're streets behind. I came up with that one, years ago."

"So she's a Professor, and you're a Doctor, Doctor?"

The Doctor took a long drink, and then a seat, and then another long drink. He made a 'go-on' gesture at Nardole.

"So the Doctor met Lissy Tremas on the first day of primary school, and they became fast friends, tight all through primary school and high school, and they both ended up getting into their chosen universities, Oxford and Cambridge. In this case," said Nardole, and took a long drink. "Absence actually made the heart grow fonder, and that's when they realised it wasn't just friendship, it was lust."

The Doctor set his jaw as Bill beamed over at him. "We thought it was love," he said. "And so she transferred to Oxford, and we got a flat together, and she got into her masters first, so I jokingly called her the Master, because she would always hold it over me, and then I got my Doctorate first, so I became the Doctor, and I never liked the name my parents gave me - "

"And then Missy went off on some project called Archangel and fucked the CEO, Harry Saxon - "

"Thanks, Nardole," said the Doctor, and took himself and the flan into the kitchen, listened through the shelves that screened the kitchen from the living room.

"And she left the Doctor, and there was a massive fight, and another massive fight, and another massive fight, until the Doctor just packed up and left his teaching post and came here," Nardole said, taking another drink. "I thought he was lonely, so I took mercy and moved in with him."

The Doctor poked his head out of the kitchen. "Your roommate kicked you out and I took you in. Temporarily. Six months ago. For two weeks. Temporarily."

"I pay rent!"

"Not enough."

"While you're listening, Doctor," said Nardole, standing, dusting off his chair. "I'm here for your support, and the ravioli, but I'm not going to speak to Missy."

"Nardole! This stupid feud you have with Missy is ridiculous. Let it go, it was years ago."

"What happened?" asked Bill.

"I can't even remember," said the Doctor, giving up and draining his beer. He stood to get another one. "Nardole?"

"Let me refresh your memory! My 21st, Hazran was giving a speech," said Nardole, referring to his longterm girlfriend, who was currently working on a robotics project in Australia. "She was giving a speech. Which rhymed. She spent ages on that speech. She bought three rhyming dictionaries. And got tutoring from one of my friends in the English department. It was a speech that came from the heart. And while she was reciting her poem, I distinctly heard snickering. I looked over my shoulder, and there was Missy, her fingers pressed against her lips, her body shaking like a paint mixer."

The doorbell rang.

"Thank God," said the Doctor, and then realised what that signified. "All right, she's here. Okay. It's just one evening out of your life, and you're paying way below market value to stay here. Can you at least be civil, Nardole?"

"Fine," said Nardole, while the Doctor crossed the room to stand by the door. "But I refuse to be warm."

Bill gave the Doctor a nod, and then a salute. The Doctor forced a smile, and opened the door. There was Missy, hair pinned up and back, in a dark overcoat against the Glaswegian drizzle, hands fisted by her sides.

"Hi, Missy."

"Hey Doctor," said Missy.

"Uh, come in."

Missy sort of stepped over the threshold. The Doctor extended his hand, and Missy reached out with both of her arms. Awkwardly, the Doctor stepped into her reach and wrapped his arms around her shoulders while she hugged his waist.

"Let me take your coat and things," the Doctor said, stepping back. Missy shrugged off her coat, handed it to him along with her frilly black umbrella and little bag. "Uh, everyone, Missy, Missy, you remember Nardole?"

"Hello, Nardole," said Missy dutifully.

"And this is Bill, one of my - "

"Friend from uni," said Bill cheerfully, extending her hand. Missy shook it. "Nice to meet you. I'll go check on dinner, I reckon."

Bill shuffled off to the kitchen, and they listened to her humming as she stirred the sauce.

"So," said Missy, stepping into the flat properly, looking around. "Where's Hazran? You're still together?"

"Yes," said Nardole stiffly, staring at the blank television screen.

"Not here though?"

"No. She's in Australia, working with the CSIRO."

"Oh. I thought she was - " Missy smirked, and the Doctor ignored how attractive it was. "Sailing up the transplendent river of your love."

Nardole set his jaw, reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He began to type angrily.

"This is a lovely place, Doctor," said Missy smoothly, sitting on the couch. "You have some lovely things."

"And our lovely settlement is final," said the Doctor.

Missy smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Wine?" the Doctor asked.

"Please," said Missy and Nardole together.

The Doctor got out four wine glasses, which clinked loudly in the silence, set them out on the table.

"Nardole," Missy said. "I'm genuinely delighted to see you here tonight."

"Oh?" said Nardole nervously.

The Doctor crossed to the liquor cabinet, got out a bottle of wine and took it over to the dining table. He began to pour.

"Yes. Knowing as I do of your history with the Doctor over there, when I heard he'd taken you in, I turned on the weather channel to see if hell had indeed frozen over."

Nardole took a moment, then turned to face the Doctor. "How did you ever let this little peach get away?"

"Dinner!" called Bill, and Nardole fled to the kitchen to help her dish it out.

"How's Susan?" the Doctor said, bringing his ex-wife her drink.

"You know," said Missy, smiling. "She's good. She misses you terribly. She's having fun at the chess camp in Birmingham though."

"At least someone's having fun in Birmingham," said the Doctor. "She sent me an email yesterday, that was nice."

"Yes, it's quite stimulating," said Missy, drinking her wine. "Eight hours a day in the big auditorium with 300 other children, mastering the Alhausen-Grauve opening."

"Wow, no wonder she misses the Doctor so much if that's the special hell you've sent her to," said Nardole, coming in with two plates of steaming ravioli. "Here we are. There's cheese, Bill's got it."

Bill brought the last three plates in- she'd put herself through her undergrad by waitressing, making chips and bartending - and the cheese, in a feat of balancing that was a practical demonstration of her skills in physics.

She took a seat. The Doctor poured the other two glasses of wine.

"So, shall we say grace?" Bill asked, and Missy stared at her, open mouthed, until Bill broke and started laughing.

The Doctor gave Bill a grateful smile. "Missy," he said. "Bill's doing the most amazing work in proton decay - "

"I read one of her articles on it," said Missy. "Bill, you must tell me about it."

 

 

**LOOK WHAT I FOUND WITH THE DUST BUNNIES**

 

Dinner passed with only a few jabs and snipes thrown between Missy and Nardole, and the Doctor managed to stay out of the conversation, leaning heavily on Bill's seemingly indefatigable good humour.

"Well, QI's on," said Nardole meaningfully, looking at Missy. "I might just go watch it in my room."

"I'm sure you idolise Stephen Fry. Same body shape, same insufferable manner," said Missy, sipping her coffee. "God he was annoying at the last Opera opening."

The Doctor, who'd never vibed with Stephen Fry for whatever reason, hid a grin.

Nardole opened his mouth, closed it. He stood.

"Goodnight, Doctor," said Nardole meaningfully. "Night, Bill." He looked at Missy, sniffed in what he probably thought was a derisive manner, and said nothing.

He made to shuffle off to his bedroom, until the Doctor sighed, banged his hand on the table.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "Missy, uh, Nardole's upset because you laughed at his 21st." He took in Missy's blank, annoyed expression. "You know, Hazran's - rhyming - "

Missy snorted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Sorry. I suppose I was responding with the genuine spontaneous emotion I was feeling at the moment."

The Doctor kicked her under the table. Missy kicked him back, set her jaw, affected an apologetic tone.

"But if Nardole is not mature enough to accept that, if he is so pitifully insecure, if he is in such need of validation, then I - " she ran out of steam, glanced helplessly at the Doctor.

'Susan likes him,' he mouthed, and Missy rolled her eyes.

"Then I guess, for some sense of familial harmony, I do apologise."

Nardole's round, pale face lit up. "Oh Missy, thank you!"

He grabbed Missy in a hug, pinning her arms to her side. Missy stared wildly as Nardole held her at an arms length, beamed at her. "This bad blood between us has gone on far too long! Next time you're in Glasgow, we'll have dinner, just you and me!" His phone began to buzz. "Oop, QI is about to begin."

He hurried out. Bill drained her coffee quickly.

"I'll be off then, too," she said. "Doctor. Missy. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Bill," said Missy.

The door shut.

"You just - make yourself comfortable," said the Doctor. "Let me clear away these dishes."

"No, no, I'll help."

"No, just, sit. Drink your wine," said the Doctor.

"Okay, I'll sit, I'll drink my wine," said Missy, sitting on the couch, crossing her annoyingly nice legs at the ankle.

The Doctor gathered the plates and cutlery. They clattered loudly in his hands as he carried them to the kitchen, loaded them into the dishwasher. He took another bottle of wine and his glass out to the living area, took a seat pointedly across from Missy and filled the glass.

"Well," he said, taking a sip.

"Well," said Missy. "It's just the two of us."

"Yeah, yeah," said the Doctor, taking another drink. "I think this is the first time we've been alone together since the lawyers put us in that room and said, "Don't come out till there's some resolution."

Missy smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, well, this was nice."

"It was, wasn't it?"

There was a moment of awkward silence, where they both drank. Missy tucked a loose curl behind her ear. The Doctor studied his hands.

"You still wear your wedding ring?" Missy asked.

"Oh, it's - habit," said the Doctor, and looked at her pale fingers. "You took yours off."

"I - " said Missy. "It's in my jewellery box. With my mother's. And that brooch you got me for our five-year anniversary. I kept it - "

"That's good, that's good."

More awkward silence ensued. The Doctor topped up their drinks.

"You have a nice place, especially when Nardole isn't cluttering it up," said Missy.

"You know, yeah, it's good to be back in Glasgow," the Doctor said. "See all the old haunts. You should, whenyou're not busy with your convention."

Missy tutted, put her glass down. She gave him a tired smile. "Doctor, for God's sake, there is no convention. I'm here because of the letter."

"The letter? What letter?"

"The letter you left with me in Oxford, when you were home last month to visit Susan."

At his blank look, Missy huffed, stood and grabbed her handbag. She rifled through it and came out with a tattered envelope, and took out a well-thumbed piece of paper, covered in his handwriting.

"This letter," she said, and started reading. "My dear Missy. You and I are far too old to woo peaceably. Ever since Rani called us a perfectly matched pair of pests on the playground, we've been inseparable, and I can't stand being apart like this. There must be some part of your hearts that still resounds to my own. As long as we have love, love will keep us together."

"I was drunk when I wrote that," said the Doctor quickly.

"Yes, I can tell, because I have two kidneys, and one heart." Missy looked at him, looked at the letter again. "And apart from the cribbing off Shakespeare, I was quite moved, I felt the same way. But I couldn't commit, so I created this convention - I mean, do you really think there'd be any kind of STEM convention in Glasgow you somehow didn't hear about? I was still torn and couldn't commit myself. But seeing you now, I realise how much I've missed you."

"Missy?" The Doctor bit his thumbnail.

Missy looked at him over the crumpled paper. "Doctor?"

"I did write that letter," he said, taking the paper out of her hands. "And I left it in the flat - "

"Yes?" Missy said, stepping towards him, her voice shaking.

"But it wasn't last month," said the Doctor. "It was nearly a year ago, before I moved back to Glasgow."

"Oh?" said Missy, in a strangely high voice. Then, back to her normal tone. "Oh. It had fallen behind the bookcase."

"I see the cleaning service is still doing its usual bang-up job. No, Missy, wait - "

Missy grabbed her coat and bag, shaking her head.

"Missy - "

"I feel like an idiot," Missy snapped. "Here I am - " She buttoned her coat quickly, strode towards the door. "Humiliated, emotionally drained, and I used up all my TravelCard vouchers."

"Missy, please - "

"No, Doctor, there's nothing else to say," said Missy, fumbling for the doorhandle. "At least let me leave with a shred of dignity."

She stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her. The Doctor made to lean against it, until he noticed Missy had closed the door on her handbag strap, trapping her bag inside. She gave it a few valiant tugs, the bag moving up and down pathetically. Then, a sad knock on the door.

The Doctor opened it. Missy pulled her handbag up and hugged it to her chest.

"Thank you," she said, and left.

 

 

**THE JUNGIAN AND THE RESTLESS**

 

The Doctor hurried into the university cafe, Nervosa, and saw Bill sitting at their usual table, working her way through a biography of Erdös. She had a cappuccino in front of her, and there was a pot of tea and a waiting mug on the other side of the table.

"I ordered for you," she said, as the Doctor slid into his chair.

"Thank you, thank you," the Doctor said, and slurped. He made a strange noise.

"Decaf, and I'm glad I took that risk," Bill closed the book, put it in her bag.

"I hate decaffeinated tea," said the Doctor. He grimaced, and sipped again. "It's all - when Missy was pregnant, it was all we had in the house." He drummed his fingers on the table, eyes darting around the cafe. 

"Doctor? You didn't shag Missy, did you?"

He spluttered. "No, I didn't. Why the - " the Doctor dabbed at the spots of tea on the table. "Why would you - "

"Straight people are weird," Bill said. "And you're all flustered. So. I assumed."

"You assume wrong. I left this note for Missy, a year ago, and she just found it now - " the Doctor passed Bill the crumpled note, and she scanned it. "It was when we were still in Oxford, you know, we were living separately, before I got offered the Glasgow job - "

"I'm trying to read, Doctor," said Bill, and the Doctor was forced to wait three agonising minutes while Bill went over his message.

She lay it on the table, took a sip of her coffee. "That's cute. You big dork. Why do you like her?"

"I mean, I wrote it," said the Doctor. "And I meant it. But do I mean it? I moved out here, I got over her, I got a job, I dated River - "

"You went on three dates with River, then she left for Tel Aviv with that floppy graduate guy with the bow tie," said Bill, who didn't mention she had also been on a couple of dates with River. "So."

The Doctor glared at her. "And you know, I've built this new life, and I do like lecturing here, and I know I complain, but I do like the radio show, but what if - Bill, we were together for ten years, we have a daughter, what if - there's a - I feel like I should maybe, feel the things I am feeling? Should I get back together, with her?"

"Why can't you talk about this with Nardole?"

"Because he's biased in Missy's favour."

"I thought he hated Missy."

"They made up at dinner, remember? He's fickle." The Doctor took a long drink. "So. What do I do?"

Bill paused. "It seems you're at a bit of a crossroads."

The Doctor scoffed. "That's a nice way of saying I'm in hell."

"When Heather and I had that rough patch, when she went travelling, and she was really distant, and we fought every time we spoke," said Bill. "I made a point of also remembering the good times. Were there good times?"

"There were - " the Doctor smiled tiredly, and Bill smiled back. "You know, when it's bad it's awful, but when it was good - hoo, boy. It was - "

The smile dropped from Bill's face. "Yeah, please don't tell me about your sex life."

"What sex life? And you know, intellectually, she's the most stimulating - don't give me that look." The Doctor sat back in his chair, sighed heavily. "She's the only person - like me, I've ever met. She was my first friend, you know, always - she was fast, and funny, my first friend and my first crush." The Doctor cast his eyes around the half-empty cafe, stared at one of the tables by the door. "Hey, is that Heather?"

"Yeah, she's just doing her mindfulness exercises while we talk. We're going shopping once your dilemma is solved."

"You think I can be packaged up into one half-hour problem solving seminar?"

"Your first friend?"

"Yes."

"First - kiss?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, that was my cousin Flavia, because my brother Irving dared us, and she's so much bigger than me I couldn't fight her off." The Doctor chuckled at Bill's expression. "Actually. I just remembered."

"What?"

He took a sip of his latte. "I went to school after that Christmas break and told her, and she kissed me to make up for it."

"That's cute."

"She bit my lip accidentally. Blood, everywhere. People thought she'd punched me in the face."

Bill grimaced. "I had a girlfriend do that once. But I reckon there's a metaphor in there for you, you know?"

The Doctor rubbed his mouth absently. "Perhaps. Or maybe, sometimes, you're seven years old and trying to avoid Mr B's French lesson."

"The thing is, Doctor," said Bill, resting her elbows on the table, putting her chin in her hands. "You already know what you want to do. You're just questioning, whether you should, and if you could."

"And what do I want to do?" asked the Doctor helplessly.

"You know," said Bill.

"Then what should I do? I really don't know!"

Bill shrugged. "Then I can't help you. Are you going to see her again?"

"I called her when she got back to her hotel last night. We're having dinner."

Bill clapped her hands. "When the moment comes, you'll make your decision."

"But what is my decision?"

"I don't know, but my decision is to get my girlfriend and go nuts at the TopShop sale." Bill finished her coffee, picked up her bag. "Good luck, Doctor."

"Thanks, Bill."

 

 

**'FRASIER' IS A HIT SHOW ON THE NBC TELEVISION NETWORK**

 

Missy was in room 66, which basically summed it all up. The Doctor knocked lightly, four times, and waited as her footsteps came across the floor. Missy opened the door.

"Good evening, Doctor," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Come on in."

"Hey, Missy," the Doctor said. "Sorry, I must be early - you've not put your hair up yet."

"No, no," said Missy, sitting heavily on the bed and slipping on a pair of dark high heels - she'd always hated being so much shorter than him in public - "No, I just weighed the consequences, spent several hours deliberating on it, and you know what? I decided to be playful. I'm glad you invited me to dinner."

The Doctor straightened his jacket, shifted. "How could I not? I still care about you, even after - everything."

Missy flicked the heel of one of her shoes, popped her lips. "Yeah."

"And well," said the Doctor. "I feel so awful about the letter. You know, I thought you'd just read it a long time ago and ignored it."

"No explanation necessary. And Doctor?" said Missy, still sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap. "Once again. I must apologise. For how it ended between us. With Saxon, and. All that."

The Doctor nodded. "Okay. Now that's all - out of the way, I know this great Chinese place around the corner - "

Missy stood, still only just coming up over his chin in her high shoes. "Doctor?"

"Missy." The Doctor took a step back, and a deep breath.

"I need to say this," Missy said. "Before we go out into the world, I just want to say that, regardless of how - everything happened, I respect you for getting on with your life as successfully as you have."

The Doctor smiled, and picked up Missy's coat. "Well, I can say I feel the same way about you. Susan is flourishing, and I'm sure that's in no small part due to you."

Missy smiled, and blushed. "Thanks. Thanks - that means a lot."

The Doctor held up her coat, and Missy turned to step into it.

"That's the first nice thing we've said to each other in about a year," said the Doctor.

"Yes," said Missy absently.

"I'm kind of moved," the Doctor said.

Missy paused and made a thinking noise. "Me too. Doctor?"

"Missy?"

"Would it be - alright, if I kissed you, right now?"

"You could always try," said the Doctor.

Her coat dropped to the floor as Missy turned, cradled his face and kissed him gently. The Doctor found his hands on her hips, and slid his arms around her waist as he returned the kiss. Missy leant into him, hummed.

They broke apart.

"Wanna skip dinner?" the Doctor asked.

"There's a bed and an honour bar, what more do we need?" Missy said, and kissed him again. "God, I was insane to divorce - " she said, and suddenly squealed when the Doctor picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissed down his neck.

"Yeah, and I was insane to agree," he said.

 

 

**[INSERT TITLE CARD HERE]**

 

The Doctor rolled over, and got a mouthful of hair for his trouble. He batted at his face, confused, then sat up to see a very naked Missy tangled in the sheets next to him.

"Go back to sleep, Doctor," Missy said, reaching out blindly for him. "Come on. Come here. Here."

"I have office hours," he said, and reached over Missy to look at the clock. "Oh, well."

"Whassat?"

He'd missed Missy's half-asleep talk, oddly enough. It was nearly eleven. "I have office hours on Sundays at ten. Where's my phone?"

"Pants."

"Pants?"

"Trousers," said Missy, rolling over onto her back, smiling up at him sleepily. "Good morning."

"Hi."

Missy pushed her tangled hair off her forehead. "So," she said. She caught him by the nape and the Doctor leant in, kissed her on the cheek, under her ear. "Hello."

"Hey."

The Doctor swung his legs out of bed, found his pants and put those on, then dug around until he found his trousers under Missy's clothes. He checked his phone. Four missed calls from Bill, and ten unread texts; six missed calls from Nardole. Well.

He took a moment to text them both, "I'm alive," before turning back to Missy, who was still very naked, and had very messy hair, both of which were things he really appreciated. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"No one ever comes to uni on a weekend anyway," he said. "I think."

Missy fiddled with the sheets and blankets until they were sitting relatively straight. "I missed you," she said, still fiddling with the sheets. She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Doctor? What are we going to do about this?"

He opened his mouth, closed it. "Missy - "

There was a knock at the door, and they both jumped.

"That must be the breakfast we ordered last night," said Missy.

The Doctor took a dressing-gown out of the cupboard and threw it to her. He took one for himself, and once they were both covered, he opened the door. The hotel clerk, who could be barely more than 12, and was an awkward ginger, pushed a trolley in with two silver domes and a pot of tea.

"Thanks," said the Doctor, waving awkwardly, and the ginger withdrew. "Wow, I'm starving."

"You shouldn't be, you ate out last night," said Missy, and the Doctor flushed red as she smirked. "Doctor, really?"

"It's fine to do it, just don't - " he made a motion, "talk about it."

"We need to talk about something else, though."

"Yes."

Silence. Finally, Missy cleared her throat.

"There's a job going in Glasgow," she said. "Private engineering firm. You know Lethbridge Industries?"

"Of course I know Lethbridge Industries," said the Doctor, pouring them cups of tea. "And?"

"They headhunted me. Offered me a position. Military-adjacent."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Your speciality."

"I didn't even think about taking it. Until I found the letter."

The Doctor concentrated very hard on doling out sugar cubes. "What are you going to do?"

"What would you like me to do?"

"I don't want you to do - anything," said the Doctor, and he took his plate of eggs and vegetarian sausages over to the little table, then retrieved his cup of tea and sat down. He really was hungry, he realised. "I want - our daughter happy, and I like my job here, and I like - less pressure. Oxford - has such standards."

"You actually like doing the radio show?"

The Doctor shrugged, pouring tomato sauce on his sausages. Missy slid out of bed, collected her own breakfast plate and tea, and sat opposite him.

"You heard me on an off day. Mondays are good. People ringing in for last-minute help on their assignments, and I get to pick them out in my Tuesday lecture."

Missy chuckled, took the sauce and drizzled it over her eggs. "I do miss Glasgow. Here, it's grounded in the realities of life. The industry and the arts are still present. While at Oxford - "

"The academia bubble," the Doctor finished. He took a sip of tea. "What does Lethbridge want you for again?"

"They have a military contract," Missy said. "Interesting stuff. I can't say, until I've signed a couple of agreements. If, I sign them."

They ate in careful silence, and then Missy stacked the dishes on the tray and pushed it into the corridor while the Doctor sent a longer text to Donna, telling her to get Professor John Smith to cover his 1pm radio show, and he'd buy John a pair of those hideous sandshoes he liked so much as a thanks, and he'd buy Donna a hat or something, and then stowed his phone again.

"So you had your fling with Saxon and you've had your fun, and now you're ready to take up with me again?"

"Doctor," said Missy, sitting back down, taking his hand. She squeezed his fingers. "The minute you - packed up and left, I became sure of one thing. That I'd made the biggest mistake I'd ever made in my life. But another thought occurred to me - we've been together since we were what, sixteen? And we'd been in each others pockets since primary school."

The Doctor looked into his teacup. "Yes."

"It's not - healthy."

"I suppose, no," said the Doctor, and looked at their intertwined fingers. "Irv always says - "

"I don't give a shit what Irv says, he's paid too much to dispense useless Freudian psychobabble. I mean, you've been with a few people, this year, right? That bloody archaeologist who's always on the news for flouting international law, and that nurse, Joan - "

"How did you know about Joan?"

"I got coffee with Nardole yesterday," Missy said, and the Doctor dropped his head into his hands. "No, he asked me, I wasn't - asking for the dirt. Perhaps my actions - no, my actions were not the best way of getting to this point, but maybe we did need a break?"

The Doctor peered at her through his fingers. Missy sighed, ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

"I'll probably never forgive myself, you know," she said. "And - well. No, I never will. Susan's going to hate me when she's older."

"She'll never hate you, you're her mother."

"And I don't hate my mother?" Missy asked. "Doctor, I cheated on you. I betrayed your trust in every possible way. You have every reason to hate me."

Silence. Missy sniffed.

"You don't hate me, do you?" she asked, in a small voice, and sniffed.

"Are you crying?"

"No," said Missy, and started to sob. She covered her face with her hands. "I'm not crying."

The Doctor shushed her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He shifted her into his lap, and she curled into him, sobbing. "Missy. Missy. Hey."

"I'm so sorry - "

"This takes me back," the Doctor said grimly, and Missy laughed wetly. "Missy. I was so angry, and I hated you when it happened. But it's been a year." He stroked her messed hair back. "I don't hate you," he whispered. "This year. I've missed you. This year. I missed Susan, and I missed you."

Missy took his hand, looked up at him, her face blotchy and her eyes red. "But can you forgive me?"

"Missy."

"Can you?" her voice wavered again.

"It took me a while," he said, and remembered the night he'd put his foot through the television when they'd announced that Harold Saxon was getting married to Lucy Ainley. Perhaps it had been a good thing that Nardole had moved in. "I was so angry. I was humiliated."

"Are you still angry?"

Missy shifted in his lap, cupped his face. The Doctor shook his head.

"Do you think we could try again?"

The Doctor looked at Missy's face. She looked tired, and sad, and hopeful.

"I wouldn't just - pick up with Susan and bring her here, and live at your place. Perhaps - we could, I'd get a flat, and Susan could live mostly at yours, she'd like that, a lot, and we'd sort of. Date." Missy stuck out her tongue. "How pedestrian, for us. And start from, the start."

"And you'd take the Lethbridge position? Is Alistair still in charge there?"

"No, it's his daughter, Kate, we - don't know each other, which is probably for the best," said Missy. "Doctor?"

"We could give it a shot," said the Doctor. "It could work." He rubbed her back, felt her weight and warmth in his arms. "I think."

"I hope."

"I think," said the Doctor again, and Missy kissed him on the cheek. "I hope. I think."

 

 

**NOTHING REALLY HUMOROUS HAPPENED FOR SIX MONTHS AND THEN**

 

Donna pointed at the Doctor, and he turned to the mike.

"And we're back with film physics Friday," he said. "And there's Brenda on the line, with a question about parsecs."

"Yes," said Brenda. "Um, we were at the _Star Wars_ Trivia night at the pub, last night, and there was a question about the Kessel run."

"Yes," the Doctor said, and then pulled a face. "What is - your question?"

"Is a parsec a unit of distance or speed?"

"I get this one all the time," the Doctor said. "Look, it's distance. Basically, George Lucas screwed it up, and he should have picked a different word. What Solo says is nonsensical."

"Actually, my dear Doctor," said Missy, into her own microphone. "In the Extended Universe it was explained that the Kessel run is a series of black holes - "

"Missy, the EU doesn't count on this show," said the Doctor.

"I wanna hear what she has to say," said Brenda, and Donna, in her own booth, laughed with delight.

"And it's less about speed, and more about how close one's ship can navigate between the black holes. Of course, that many black holes in such close proximity raises a number of other questions, none of which I have the time or patience to go into."

"Or the whiteboard space," said the Doctor, and Missy laughed. "Okay, hope that - partially answers your question, Brenda. Right, is that - "

Donna made a "wrap it up" motion.

"That's all we have time for this week," said the Doctor. "Thanks for all the great calls, and we'll see you next week on _Time, Relative Dimensions, and Space_."

"Thanks for joining us," Missy said, and pressed the "off" button.

They both waited for the all-clear from Donna. She took her headphones off, and they followed suit. Donna stood, poked her head into the booth.

"Nice show, guys. I'll see you on Monday - remember, we need to record those promos."

"Thanks, will do, Donna," said the Doctor, and Missy nodded. "Have a nice weekend."

After packing their things, the Doctor and Missy found themselves blinking in the rare bright sunlight outside the radio station.

"Right," said the Doctor.

"Right," Missy said. "So. An hour to kill until we pick Susan up. Want a coffee?"

"We could go down to Nervosa - I need to get a head start on those essays."

"Well. Nervosa's the only place that makes a decent decaf anything." Missy took his hand, threaded their fingers together. Her wedding ring brushed against his finger. "Sounds like an excellent idea, my dear Doctor. Would you like a hand?"

"That's what Nardole and Bill are for," said the Doctor, and they began to walk towards the cafe. "Besides. Last time I let you grade my papers, I had so many complaints about harshness I ended up issuing a make-up quiz."

Missy giggled, and the Doctor stopped walking, leant across and kissed her on the temple. She hummed happily, looped her arm around his waist, and they kept walking, Missy singing under her breath.

"What's that you're singing?" the Doctor asked. "It's really familiar."

"Oh, I ended up watching a Cheers marathon with Nardole after you went to bed last night," said Missy. "I love that show. Lilith's my favourite."

"I can't stand it. Frasier drives me up the goddamn wall. Why are you drinking decaf?"

"I'll tell you when we get there."

 

 

**THE END**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it - comments are always appreciated! Thanks to Kiara, Sos, Chris and Ilana for general cheerleading work :) 
> 
> Also if anyone is confused, Frasier the show spun off from Cheers (1982 - 1993). The intertitles in this fic are meant to invoke the black titlecards Frasier had as act breaks.


End file.
